The Mysterious Mr Quin by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online

although I cautioned her, she insisted on making a statement.’
    ‘If she said that,’ said Major Porter, and his face was still deadly white, ‘she was speaking the truth. I know Iris Staverton.’
    ‘Well, sir,’ said the Inspector, ‘there’ll be plenty of time to go into all that later. In the meantime, I’ve got my duty to do.’
    With an abrupt movement, Porter turned to Mr Satterthwaite.
    ‘You! Can’t you help? Can’t you do something?’
    Mr Satterthwaite could not help feeling immensely flattered. He had been appealed to, he, most insignificant of men, and by a man like John Porter.
    He was just about to flutter out a regretful reply,when the butler, Thompson, entered, with a card upon a salver which he took to his master with an apologetic cough. Mr Unkerton was still sitting huddled up in a chair, taking no part in the proceedings.
    ‘I told the gentleman you would probably not be able to see him, sir,’ said Thompson. ‘But he insisted that he had an appointment and that it was most urgent.’
    Unkerton took the card.
    ‘Mr Harley Quin,’ he read. ‘I remember, he was to see me about a picture. I did make an appointment, but as things are–’
    But Mr Satterthwaite had started forward.
    ‘Mr Harley Quin, did you say?’ he cried. ‘How extraordinary, how very extraordinary. Major Porter, you asked me if I could help you. I think I can. This Mr Quin is a friend–or I should say, an acquaintance of mine. He is a most remarkable man.’
    ‘One of these amateur solvers of crime, I suppose,’ remarked the Inspector disparagingly.
    ‘No,’ said Mr Satterthwaite. ‘He is not that kind of man at all. But he has a power–an almost uncanny power–of showing you what you have seen with your own eyes, of making clear to you what you have heard with your own ears. Let us, at any rate, give him an outline of the case, and hear what he has to say.’
    Mr Unkerton glanced at the Inspector, who merely snorted and looked at the ceiling. Then the formergave a short nod to Thompson, who left the room and returned ushering in a tall, slim stranger.
    ‘Mr Unkerton?’ The stranger shook him by the hand. ‘I am sorry to intrude upon you at such a time. We must leave our little picture chat until another time. Ah! my friend, Mr Satterthwaite. Still as fond of the drama as ever?’
    A faint smile played for a minute round the stranger’s lips as he said these last words.
    ‘Mr Quin,’ said Mr Satterthwaite impressively, ‘we have a drama here, we are in the midst of one, I should like, and my friend, Major Porter, would like, to have your opinion of it.’
    Mr Quin sat down. The red-shaded lamp threw a broad band of coloured light over the checked pattern of his overcoat, and left his face in shadow almost as though he wore a mask.
    Succinctly, Mr Satterthwaite recited the main points of the tragedy. Then he paused, breathlessly awaiting the words of the oracle.
    But Mr Quin merely shook his head.
    ‘A sad story,’ he said. ‘A very sad and shocking tragedy. The lack of motive makes it very intriguing.’
    Unkerton stared at him.
    ‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Mrs Staverton was heard to threaten Richard Scott. She was bitterly jealous of his wife. Jealousy–’
    ‘I agree,’ said Mr Quin. ‘Jealousy or Demoniac Possession. It’s all the same. But you misunderstand me. I was not referring to the murder of Mrs Scott, but to that of Captain Allenson.’
    ‘You’re right,’ cried Porter, springing forward. ‘There’s a flaw there. If Iris had ever contemplated shooting Mrs Scott, she’d have got her alone somewhere. No, we’re on the wrong tack. And I think I see another solution. Only those three people went into the Privy Garden. That is indisputable and I don’t intend to dispute it. But I reconstruct the tragedy differently. Supposing Jimmy Allenson shoots first Mrs Scott and then himself. That’s possible, isn’t it? He flings the pistol from him as he falls–Mrs Staverton